


He Leaned on the Chalkboard

by aaconitum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Frottage, Human Derek Hale, M/M, Professor Derek Hale, Professor Stiles Stilinski, Teacher Derek, Teacher Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaconitum/pseuds/aaconitum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are professors who use the same lecture hall. Flirting and such ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Leaned on the Chalkboard

**Author's Note:**

> Only edited by me. This was just a short thing that I got the idea for while sitting in class and wrote instead of doing homework.
> 
> ps if anyone wants to draw anything for this or make a gifset or some shit: PLS DO and send it to me bros

“Professor Hale,” Stiles said with a nod, greeting Derek as he walked into the vacated room.

“Stilinski,” he said back, with his own nod.

This was how they greeted each other every day, after Stiles’s class and before Derek’s. They both gave lectures in the same hall — Stiles on psychology, Derek on ancient history. There were thirty minutes between the end of Stiles’s class and the beginning of Derek’s, so they usually chatted for a while as Derek set up and Stiles got ready to leave.

“How’d your class go?” Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Normal. You know how it goes. Some kids are engaged and actually want to learn, but some of them just need the credit.”

Derek nodded sympathetically. “I love the ones who actually want to be there.”

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, but who wouldn’t want to be in your class? Even if they don’t care about history, I’m sure they all appreciate the eye candy,” he said, admiring Derek’s perfectly fitted navy blue pants that hugged his ass in all the right places (read: every place).

Derek laughed loudly. “I could say the same for you.”

Stiles looked down at himself — he was wearing rumpled khakis, his shirt was crooked and untucked, and his hands were coated thickly with chalk from erasing the board with his hands during class.

He shrugged. If Derek thought he was attractive, he could play along with that. He strutted towards Derek, tipping his head up confidently.

“Maybe you should come to one of my lectures sometime, then. I’m sure that I have a lot to teach you,” he drawled, leaning over the table that Derek had his notes sorted on.

Derek stopped moving and looked up at Stiles. He swallowed.

“I’d love to learn,” he said quietly.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, but it felt like hours as they just looked at each other, both of their heartbeats slightly faster than normal.

Eventually, Stiles whispered, “fuck it,” and grabbed Derek’s collar to pull him into a kiss across the table, finally breaking all of the tension that had been building up since the beginning of the school year, when they started their game of flirting and teasing until Derek’s class began.

Derek made a noise of surprise, but only took a second to catch up and get his hands in Stiles’s hair, pulling him closer.

Stiles leaned further across the table, the edge digging into his hips. Derek bit softly on his lower lip, which had Stiles grappling at the sides of Derek’s dark green sweater with his chalky fingers. Derek grunted as he banged into the table as well, so Stiles took it upon himself to climb up onto the surface, trying desperately not to separate their lips. Any time they lost contact, Derek yanked him back and continued to lick into his mouth.

After a minute or two of struggling and getting distracted by Derek’s lips, Stiles finally managed to sit on the edge of the table, so he pulled Derek into the space between his legs, grinding their hips together. Derek threw his head back and groaned at the unexpected friction. Stiles took the opportunity to get his mouth on Derek’s bared neck, sucking and nipping near the collar of his shirt. He put his hands on Derek’s ass, pulling him closer as he rolled his hips as best he could while sitting on a table.

Derek practically _whined_ as Stiles kept moving and marking his skin.

“Stiles,” he moaned. Stiles just hummed in response.

“ _Stiles,_ ” he tried again, gently pushing himself back. “I- I have a class.”

“You still have time,” Stiles said, pulling his hips back even harder than he had the first time. They both groaned as Stiles gripped at Derek’s hips, starting up a slow but steady rhythm.

“No, S- Stiles, if we keep going, I’m gonna end up, ah, coming in my pants, which I really- really can’t do when I’m supposed to be teaching in —“ he glanced at the clock. “Shit. Fifteen minutes.”

Stiles let go of Derek’s hips reluctantly, but slid off the table and put his hands on the back of Derek’s neck, pulling him in for one more kiss, much longer and slower than any of the previous. When they pulled apart, Stiles looked Derek up and down, then barked out a laugh. He covered his mouth quickly and said, “I’m so sorry, but you’re a mess.”

Derek looked down. He was covered in chalk from Stiles’s hands all over him, and his clothes were slightly wrinklier than before. Plus, his pants didn’t do much to hide his arousal. He blushed furiously, but muttered, “You’re not much better.”

Stiles just shrugged. “Probably not, but I don’t have a class to teach in less than fifteen minutes. It doesn’t matter what I look like.”

Derek cursed under his breath, but he couldn't help but chuckle. Of _course,_ the one time he finally gets to act on what he’s wanted to do with Stiles for weeks, he has to stop to pull himself together in less than ten minutes, when his students will start trickling in.

He ducked his head to hide his red face and caught sight of the table. “You messed up my notes,” he stated.

Stiles laughed brightly, and Derek’s heart beat harder in his chest.

“I’ll fix them. Try to make yourself look presentable,” Stiles said, patting Derek's chest, leaving even more chalk behind.

Stiles starting reorganizing the papers into the stacks that Derek had put them in, and Derek tried, but failed miserably, to get all the chalk smudges out of his clothes.

“How do you ever get this shit off of you?” Derek clamored.

Stiles snorted, immediately covering his mouth as if trying to stuff the sound back in his throat. Derek just rolled his eyes as he kept brushing at his pants. Stiles shook his head as he watched, then hooked his fingers in Derek’s front pockets and pulled him in close.

“Just tell them you leaned on the blackboard,” he whispered close to Derek’s ear, making him shiver.

Derek scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d believe that I somehow managed to get chalk dust all over my neck, on my sides, on my chest, _and_ on my ass, all because I leaned on the board.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter whether you have chalk on you or not.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, for one,” Stiles started, then simply gestured at Derek’s half-hard dick. “Second,” he continued, and pressed his thumb against where there must be a bruise forming where Stiles was mouthing at his neck. Derek had to hold back a moan. “And third,” Stiles said, “You look tempting enough in that outfit that even the students who hate history will be paying attention today.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but tipped Stiles’s head up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“The only person I want to tempt is you.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you chose to wear those pants today. They look ridiculously good on you.”

“I bet they would look better on your floor,” Derek murmured right against Stiles’s skin.

After laughing at the outdated and, frankly, lame pickup line, Stiles took a breath and said, “You’re on, Hale.”

Before Derek had the chance to move into Stiles’s space again, the door to the lecture hall opened, and a student walked in. Derek stared like a deer in headlights, just thankful that his boner was completely gone now, but Stiles clapped Derek on the shoulder easily and said, “Sorry for knocking your papers off the table, Professor Hale. You know how clumsy I can be.”

“Uh- Yeah, it’s fine, Stiles. Thanks for helping me clean it up,” Derek stuttered.

“Well, it’s the least I could do, since it was my fault,” Stiles laughed.

“Yeah, I guess it was, huh?” Derek said with a sly smile, slowly falling into his usual banter with Stiles. “I would say that we’re even, but I think you owe me for managing to knock me over into all of the chalk dust left over from _your_ lecture.”

Stiles smiled widely, almost laughing, but then pretended to be affronted.

“I _told_ you,” he said, “I’m clumsy.”

“Yeah, but now _I’m_ covered in chalk. And, to be honest, I think people hold me to a higher standard than they hold you to around here. You’re always walking around with chalk dust all over your clothes,” Derek said, deliberately dragging his eyes down Stiles’s body.

This time, Stiles couldn't hold in his burst of laughter.

“Fair enough, Hale. How about I formally apologize by buying you coffee later? Anything you want, my treat,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Derek smirked at him. “Yeah, I’m sure I could find something that I want.”

“Great. Meet me in my office when you're ready?”

Derek nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Stiles turned so that his back was facing the growing crowd of students.

“Yes, you will,” he said with a wink, then turned to walk out. If he swung his hips a little bit on his way up the aisle, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

Almost every student in the room rolled their eyes at the two professors, but Derek was too busy staring at Stiles’s ass to notice.

Not a single person believed that Derek had been knocked into the chalk, if the outlines of two large handprints on the back of his pants were anything to go by. Not to mention the dark, unmissable bruise that kept peeking out from under his collar.

Stiles actually did take Derek out for coffee later that night.

Derek actually did see Stiles when they went back to his place afterwards.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my professors actually does erase the chalk board with his hand, and he always ends up getting it all over his pants, so that's where this came from!
> 
> You can find me at bilessexual.tumblr.com if you want to!


End file.
